


Four Days

by lynne_monstr



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Magnus Has Tentacles, Rescue, Tentacles, Tentacletober, Undercover Missions, does it count as tentacle bondage if it's the tentacles that are tied up?, magnus and alec are both badass in their own way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 18:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynne_monstr/pseuds/lynne_monstr
Summary: “I can do it myself if you prefer,” Magnus says, not unkindly.Alec shakes his head. He knows how to make a clean cut, so sharp and fast Magnus won’t even feel it until it’s over. “So you do need me to escape,” he teases. It’s a shoddy attempt to lighten the mood but it works.Magnus glares from where he’s lying down, but it’s more fond than truly annoyed. “This is certainly less painful than the alternative,” he allows.(Or, It takes four days to find Magnus, and they’re the worst four days of Alec’s life. Four frantic, blood-soaked days.)





	Four Days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tentacletober Day 22: Tie up the Tentacles

It takes four days to find Magnus, and they’re the worst four days of Alec’s life. Four frantic, blood-soaked days.

“Where is he?” Alec demands. His seraph blade is sunk deep in the shoulder of a man he’d sat in a clave meeting with only yesterday.

“I told you, I’m not in the Circle. I don’t—” The man screams as Alec twists the blade. He must see death in Alec’s gaze, because he shudders like the coward he is. “I don’t know,” he finishes, his voice weak and thready.

He’s lying. Hiding behind the persona of an aging clave paper-pusher. Alec knows better. “You must think I’m stupid. We both know the Circle is old news.”

Once, that would have been cause to celebrate. Not anymore. In the wake of Alicante’s new Downworlder policy, a new group had risen from the ashes of the old, determined to go back to what they referred to as older and better times. The Foundation, they called themselves. Alec can still remember the shock when he read those words in his daily morning briefing, his surprise only eclipsed by how unsurprised Magnus was to hear the same news.

_There will always be people that hate me and mine, simply for who we are,_ he’d said. There was anger in his eyes but also resignation.

Alec hated it, and it only spurred on his drive to end this new threat.

And now this same group had abducted his husband. As far as Alec was concerned, they shouldn’t be worrying about Downworlders. They should be worrying about Alec.

Yanking the knife from the man’s shoulder, Alec puts it to his throat. “Where is Magnus Lightwood-Bane?” He doesn’t know how many times he’s asked that question, but he’ll keep asking it until he gets what he wants.

The man screams himself hoarse but eventually he gives Alec the information he needs.

.

Alec takes the elevator down to the very bowels of the clave headquarters where Alec himself works.

His hands are still red, but it’s a dry, flaky red. Closer to brown. It won’t impede his ability to draw a blade or to handle his bow. He wipes them on his suit, uncaring that the expensive fabric is ruined beyond what even magic can do to repair it. Magnus had given him that suit to mark his first day as Inquisitor. It's a harsh reminder that Magnus has always been there for Alec, but when Magnus needed him, he was alone.

Bile stings Alec’s throat and he swallows it down. The clothes don’t matter. Only Magnus does.

Room B-39117 is locked but Alec has a key he’d taken from a Foundation member days ago. His thigh still stings from a phantom slice he healed with an iratze after that particular fight.

The key opens the door.

Alec barely sees the contents of the room, other than to confirm it’s safe to enter. He’s too focused on the surgical table in the middle of it. Or more accurately, the figure strapped to the surgical table.

He’s across the room before he even has time to think. “Magnus!”

Magnus is laying on the table, tied down with a set of six point restraints on his arms, legs, thighs, and chest. The table is wide like a bed, and fanning around him like a peacock’s tail is every single one of his two dozen tentacles, each of them bolted to the table at multiple points along their lengths with a set of thick metal rings. One or two of them are still struggling but the rest are lifeless in their bonds, as if they’ve accepted their inability to break free.

Magnus’ eyes are unglamoured. And looking at Alec. “Alec?” he asks. The edges of his voice are heavy, a little slurred. From drugs or exhaustion, Alec can’t tell.

He cups Magnus’ cheek, leaning down to peer into his eyes. It’s harder to read them without the glamour. Alec’s still getting used to deciphering Magnus’ moods in the slit of his pupils rather than his more human looking features. “It’s me. Can you walk? I’m getting you out of here.”

Alec looks around the room, something he admittedly should have done before charging in. There has to be a set of keys somewhere or a control panel to the table.

“No.” The firm denial brings Alec up short. “Go home, Alec.”

Alec whirls around. Is this some kind of joke? A trap, most likely, but it doesn’t matter. “Not without you.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, and if it isn't for the sterile room and all the restraints Alec could almost imagine they were bickering back at home. What to have for dinner, what movie to watch, whose book is better, who would win in a fight of runes versus magic. For two people who loved each other so much, they had so many things they didn't see eye-to-eye on. It was exhilarating.

In the next instant, Magnus face contorts into a look of fear. “Alec behind you!”

Alec whirls, bringing his blade up just in time to deflect a seraph sword that would’ve taken his head clean off, wielded by an older woman with a frown as fierce as her swing. He throws himself to the ground at the flicker of movement in his peripheral vision.

A knife shoots past above him, thrown by a second attacker he doesn’t get a glimpse of. A third person runs into the room, a man with a short blunt nose who’s almost as tall as Alec himself. Alec has just enough time to plan his attack when—

Angry red magic sizzles in bolt from behind him, throwing the first attacker into the wall. She slumps, unconscious.

Not missing a beat, Alec engages the remaining two in combat. No sooner does he block the first punch when another burst of magic takes out his tall attacker. It doesn’t take Alec long to defeat the third and last. The three were well trained, but Alec has been living in warzone during his time in New York. There’s no comparison to a cushy life in Alicante.

Finally, when the room’s clear, Alec has a chance to look over at Magnus.

Magnus, whose hands are free and still wreathed in red battle magic. He’s still flat on his back, tethered to the table by his tentacles, but despite that, there’s a victorious glint in his golden eyes. With a quick gesture, he frees himself from the straps around his chest and thighs as well.

“I should have known,” Alec said, a smile growing on his face as he makes his way over to where Magnus is prone. When he’s again beside the bed, he leans in and kisses Magnus. This is real, Magnus is here and safe. And apparently able to free himself the whole damn time.

“You let yourself be kidnapped.” It isn’t a question. “That’s why you wanted me to leave.”

Magnus presses his lips together. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I know you must have been worried sick but they ambushed me and it was the best opportunity I was going to get.” He shrugs, then winces as it pulls at the nearest restrained tentacles. “You heard the intel about the Foundation just as I did. They’re planning something big. This was the easiest way to get answers.”

He makes another gesture with his magic, this time towards his tentacles. And frowns when the restraints don’t loosen. He tries again, his elegant gestures turning sharper with each failure. Alec doesn’t need to be an expert in reading his cat’s eyes to know Magnus is concerned by this development.

“I was afraid of this,” Magnus mutters, more to himself than to Alec. He rolls halfway onto his side, his hands roaming up and down one of his tentacles, but no matter how much he tries to coax the restraint open, it remains stubbornly closed.

He turns his head to look up Alec. “It appears I’m a little stuck.”

The tip of the tentacle closest to Alec wriggles in its binding. It looks so sad like that, caged and unhappy. Alec couldn't ignore it if he tried. He brings his hand within touching distance and immediately, it rubs itself against his palm like a pleased cat. Alec can’t help petting it a little. Magnus’ tentacles crave affection as much as Magnus himself, only they’re a lot less shy about showing it.

“So this was your plan?” Alec asks, eyes sweeping over the bound tentacles keeping Magnus on his back. An unlocking rune fails to work and Alec busies himself making a circle of the table, looking for anything like a key or a control panel that would release Magnus.

He can hear Magnus huff. “If you hadn’t knocked that last one unconscious, I could’ve taken his memories and used it to get out of these things.” He turns his eye to gaze mournfully at the slumped figures along the far wall. “Unfortunately, that’s no longer an option and I don’t particularly want to wait for them to wake up.”

“Oh so it’s my fault.”

“Well, you _are_ the one who interrupted my interrogation.”

Alec looks at Magnus, his dirty clothes and greasy hair. The angry red marks on his wrists where they peek out from his shirt cuffs. “_Your_ interrogation? That’s not what it looks like from here.”

A cloud passes over Magnus’ face. “Then you’re not looking hard enough. I’ve been playing war games since before your grandparents were in diapers.” The storm passes as quickly as it came, leaving Magnus with a self-satisfied smile. “If you must know, I got everything I need from them to stop their latest plan. And while I would have liked to stick around another day to make sure I didn’t miss anything, that’s no longer an option. So, if you wouldn’t mind lending your assistance, I’d like to go home, have a steaming hot shower, and hug my husband.”

“That sounds nice,” Alec says, his hand finding its way to Magnus’ face. It’s a little selfish, how he lingers to stroke Magnus’ jaw with his thumb, the way he always does whenever his words stick in his throat. The warmth of Magnus’ skin is a much-needed reminder that all the worst-case scenarios he’d spent days imagining are nothing more than bad memories.

Focus. Once he frees Magnus he can do all the touching he wants.

Alec inspects the metal rings binding the tentacles. They’re snug, each one pressing into the skin of the tentacle. In the middle of each ring is a line of raised dots, around the size of a pencil’s eraser. Almost as if they’re the base for something on the inside of the ring. Something keeping Magnus from pulling out of the restraint like he should’ve been able to do easily.

A creeping horror comes over Alec.

His hands curl into fists at his side. “Magnus, are these. Are these…are they _hurting_ you?”

Now that he’s looking for it, he can see the lines of distress across Magnus’ forehead and around his mouth. There’s a tension in his muscles that speaks of long-lasting pain. Each new drop of knowledge beats like a drum against Alec’s head. He needs to get Magnus out of here _now_.

“It’s fine, Alec.” Of course, Magnus could read him just as well as he can read Magnus.

Alec struggles to control his expression but all he can think about is how many of the little metal rings are biting into Magnus’ flesh. The tentacles have some small level of autonomy, but they’re part of Magnus. Whatever they feel, he feels.

“Magnus? Have you been wearing these the whole time these _people_—” Alec practically spits the world. For all Shadowhunters talk about being descended from angels, he’s come to realizes some of the worst monsters are the people he grew up thinking were the good guys,“—the whole time they had you?”

Magnus doesn’t answer and that’s answer enough. It only spurs on Alec’s determination to get him out of this place and make sure it’s shut down for good. A quick search of the room doesn’t reveal anything that can help. What’s worse, he can’t get into the computer equipment without risking triggering a failsafe and leaving Magnus trapped for good. He tugs at his hair. There must be something he can do, something that can help but he can’t think of it.

“Alec. Alec!” Magnus’ voice snaps him back. Magnus has his palm outstretched. “Did you really think I’d come here without a backup plan? Get your blade out.” He wiggles his fingers in a way that leaves no doubt what he’s asking.

“Are you sure?” It’s a stupid question but Alec asks it anyways. He’s had enough conversations with Magnus to know the basics of magical theory—tipsy conversations over wine, hushed whispers tangled together before sleeping, even casual chats when they have the occasional free afternoon to meet for lunch.

Blood augments magic. Especially demon blood. And Magnus is part greater demon.

“I can do it myself if you prefer,” Magnus says, not unkindly.

Alec shakes his head. He knows how to make a clean cut, so sharp and fast Magnus won’t even feel it until it’s over. “So you _do_ need me to escape,” he teases. It’s a shoddy attempt to lighten the mood but it works.

Magnus glares from where he’s lying down, but it’s more fond than truly annoyed. “This is certainly less painful than the alternative,” he allows.

Alec imagines Magnus using his teeth on himself, or trying to cut his hand on a random sharp edge of the table, and hides his wince. The life they choose to live is a dangerous and often painful one but that doesn’t mean he ever wants to think of Magnus in pain. He’d whisk Magnus away and hide him in comfort forever if he didn’t think Magnus would hate him for it. Or even allow him to do it in the first place.

Instead, he takes Magnus’ palm in his hands and presses his lips to the center of it. Unsheathing his blade, he slices through the skin he just kissed.

Magnus doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react at all other than to crane his head and stare at the blood welling up into a small pool in his palm. He swipes it up with the fingers of his opposite hand and draws a sigil Alec doesn’t recognize on the metal table. The angle he’s lying down at obscures his vision of what he’s drawing but it doesn’t seem to matter. Magnus moves as if he’s done this a thousand times before, so familiar with the components of the spell that he doesn’t need to look at what his fingers are doing.

It’s not that Alec forgets Magnus is a powerful warlock. But Magnus so often throws around his magic for nothing more than minor conveniences that it’s easy to forget Magnus isn’t just a charismatic leader with an easy smile who can throw around the occasional fireball in a fight. There’s a depth of knowledge beneath his kind eyes, accumulated over centuries of living. Alec wonders how much of Magnus’ magic he still has yet to see. Is there enough time left in his mortal life to possibly see it all, or is there’s so much that it can’t be filled in a lifetime?

The air grows heavy, like they’re deep underwater. A high pitched ringing noise tickles Alec ear and then—

It all stops.

Magnus sits up, his tentacles waving freely in the air around him. “Much better,” he says. He rolls his shoulders, craning his neck from side to side as if he’s stretching for the first time in days. Which, he very well might be.

There’s the hint of a strain in his voice but Alec doesn’t call him out on it. He also doesn’t help Magnus as he gets up from table, though he keeps a close eye out in case he falters. There are certain things, Alec has learned, that Magnus prefers to do himself. Especially when they’re not in the privacy of their home behind Magnus’ wards.

Alec’s fears are unfounded and Magnus is steady on his feet. They leave that horror of a room behind but as they sneak through the myriad of corridors and elevators between them and the surface, he can’t help but notice the tiny, dark puncture marks circling each of Magnus’ tentacles where the metal bindings had cut into him.

They must hurt, but they don't seem to hinder him in combat, Alec learns when they eventually need to make their way out by force. Fighting alongside Magnus is as easy as curling up on the couch with Magnus, as easy as breathing, as easy as the things they do together in the bedroom behind closed doors. They move in perfect synchronicity, switching off between their respective long and short range attacks, never falling into a predictable enough rhythm for their enemies to get the jump on them.

The moment they’re home, Magnus sags, his tentacles pulling tight to his body.

Acting on instinct, Alec gets an arm beneath Magnus’ shoulder and guides him to the couch. They settle there together, Alec with his arms around Magnus, Magnus with his tentacles around Alec. A pained hiss escapes from Magnus as the movement jostles the tentacles’ injuries, but when Alec goes to move away they only hold him tighter.

“I’ll heal them later,” Magnus says. “Can we stay like this?”

It’s as close to admitting exhaustion as Alec is going to get from him.

Tomorrow, they’ll need to drag themselves back into the world and deal with the information Magnus risked himself to acquire. They'd already done the most critical part when Magnus used a last burst of heavy magic to send his findings to both the clave and the warlock council. It's only a matter of time now until both their organizations are clamoring for interviews and debriefings and all the rest.

But that’s a whole morning away and Alec currently has other plans.

He kisses the tentacle draped across his shoulders, turning back just in time to catch a kiss from Magnus himself. A peck on the lips that turns heated. Alec sinks into the kiss, surrounded by Magnus at every part of his body.

“Jealous?” Alec asks, once they part, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Of myself? Hardly.”

Magnus leans in to kiss him again and the tentacles wrap snugly around them both.


End file.
